


Bold Strokes

by barricadebastard



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: (that's laf), Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drawing, Fluff, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, I wrote this instead of revising, Light Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Roommates, but seriously there's very little angst here, if you came here for the angst you're gonna be sorely disappointed, oops? :)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-19
Updated: 2016-01-19
Packaged: 2018-05-15 00:54:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5765473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barricadebastard/pseuds/barricadebastard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alex thinks John is mad at him. </p><p>It doesn't occur to him that John might be feeling guilty about having a secret sketchbook filled entirely of Alex's pretty face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bold Strokes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> i should be revising for history but honestly, lams fluff is so much more interesting than learning about why the open ranges in America ended in 1980. I'm not even American?? Why would I care
> 
> as usual, for my favourite naartjie, a_dot_ham. Read her works, follow her on tumblr at bae-dot-ham. she's hella awesome.
> 
> Title from Cabinet Battle #1

Alex could feel John's eyes burning into his skin as he worked. He shifted uncomfortably under the intense gaze.

"You're glaring at me again," Alex pointed out, refusing to look away from his laptop as he typed.

He saw John startle from the corner of his eye, sketchbook almost sliding off his lap. "Sorry," he said and peace was restored.

Alex continued to type, fingers flying over the keys as he worked on his assignment. The words were flowing perfectly and he was certain that he could finish it within an hour if there were no interruptions but-

"You're glaring," Alex sighed again. John looked away quickly, as Alex closed his laptop and moved to sit next to his roommate on the bed.

"John?" Alex asked hesitantly, fingers reaching out cautiously to touch John's leg in a gesture of support, comfort, something,  _anything_. But John slammed the sketchbook on his lap shut. Alex jumped, withdrawing his fingers. "Are you mad at me?"

John looked more confused than he had any right to, eyebrows furrowing as he set the sketchbook to his side. "Of course not! Why would I be mad at you?"

"I don't know!" Alex said indignantly. "You keep glaring at me and you've been acting weird and you don't even let me see your sketchbook anymore and you used to let me go through it all the time!"

The confusion in John's face bled out, and a guilty expression took its place. "I'm not mad, I swear! It's just..." he trailed off awkwardly, shifting his gaze before his eyes snapped back to Alex to address another issue. "And I don't glare!"

"Yes, you do," Alex sulked. "You were glaring at me just then."

John shook his head firmly. "Not glaring. There's a difference between glaring and looking."

Alex snorted disbelievingly. "Care to explain why you've been spending so much time 'looking' at me?"

John didn't answer, looking away shiftily. Alex frowned and opened his mouth to question the other male further, but was interrupted by the buzz of a vibrating phone.

John leaned past Alex to reach for the phone that was lying by his pillow. Alex, trying desperately to will his heartbeat at the close proximity and the heat radiating from John's body. He was pathetic; John was clearly pissed off at him and here he was, blushing like a schoolgirl whenever John touched him.

"Uh huh, almost," John was saying on the phone. Alex refused to leave the bed - they were going to continue this conversation whether John liked it or not. "No, I haven't, don't be dumb... sure... alright, I'll be there in ten."

Alex's heart dropped when he heard the last sentence. This was the first time he had confronted John about his strange behaviour the past week, and _now_ John had to go?

"Who was it?" Alex asked begrudgingly. John shot him an apologetic look even as he stood up and grabbed his jacket.

"Laf and Herc," he replied. "I gotta go."

Alex pursued his lips. "Drive safe," he said reluctantly. "The roads are slippery."

John sent him a grateful look which Alex pointedly ignored.

Within seconds, John was out of the door. Alex glared at the floor for a moment, blinking angrily to stop the tears from escaping his eyes.

"I hate him," he said to himself, scowling furiously even as he angrily wiped away at the tear that had slipped down his cheek. 

No matter what John said, he was clearly angry at him. There was no other explanation for the sudden change in behaviour. But Alex had no recollection of anything he had said or done that might have upset the South Carolinian. It worried him, not knowing why John was upset and being unable to apologize.

He reached out to stroke the cover of John's sketchbook absent-mindedly, thinking back at all the drawings John used to show him. Different types of turtles, mostly, with a summary on the side. Sometimes he would draw their friends, with Lafayette grinning as they sipped elegantly at their tea, or Mulligan with his brow furrowed in concentration as he worked his magic with a needle and thread, or Angelica in the middle of a passionate rant, Eliza's sweet smile as she pulled the cookies out of the oven, Peggy surrounded by her army of cats, even Aaron Burr with a polite smile gracing his lips.

John had never drawn Alex. Alex tried not to feel bitter, and failed.

His finger caught in the groove of the cover and he frowned, confused. John's sketchbook had a completely smooth cover. It was a different sketchbook, different to the one John usually drew in. Maybe John had filled up the old sketchbook. Despite the events of the past week, Alex felt a surge of pride rise up within him.

He flipped the book open to the first page. There, in swooping strokes, was a drawing of Alex. His breath caught in his breath for a moment. The freedom of each pencil stroke gave off a sort of vibrating energy that was communicated to whoever looked at it and Alex wasn't an expert in the arts but he didn't need to be to know this was _beautiful_. The Alex in the drawing wasn't doing anything, simply sitting cross-legged on the bed, hands entangled in the sheets as he looked to the side, grinning.

Alex turned to the next page. The next drawing was him, again. This time, he was typing at his laptop, eyes narrowed in concentration. All other objects in the background were blurred. Where the first drawing conveyed freedom and energy, this one conveyed intensity. The strokes were bolder, sharper, darker. 

Alex turned to the next page. And the next. And the next. Each page was a drawing of him, whether he was eating, talking, looking out of the window or, in one case, trying to put out a fire in the kitchen after a failed cooking attempt. He found himself growing more and more confused.

"Alex," a voice called just as the door swung open. "We're going to the coffee shop, you coming?" 

The book slipped out of Alex's hands in surprise. It fell to the floor with a thud, pages open. John stared in shock, first at the book then at Alex. Lafayette and Mulligan's faces appeared behind him at the doorway.

The silence was suffocating.

"Guess you've found John's secret sketchbook," Mulligan said cheerfully, sounding completely unbothered. 

"You  _knew_?" John asked, turning around to give the dark-skinned male an accusing glare.

"You weren't exactly subtle,  _mon ami_ ," Lafayette said in a placating tone, one hand resting on John's shoulder comfortingly. "We'll leave you two to talk it out, but  _mon dieu_ , if you don't kiss, I'll have to force you both." And with that, they took Mulligan's arm gently, leaving the room and shutting the door firmly behind them. 

Silence reigned again and Alex itched to say anything, but for once in his life, he didn't know what to  _say._ John Laurens had effectively rendered him speechless and was the first person to do so - somehow, it seemed fitting that the only person to take away Alex's most powerful weapon was John.

"You wanted to know why I've been acting strange all week," John said suddenly. Alex startled at the seemingly random statement.

"Yes," he said cautiously, bending over to pick up the book that lay on the floor and placing it gently on the bed.

"That's why," John said. Before Alex could ask him to elaborate, he continued. "I avoided drawing you before because it felt weird, it didn't seem right. I could never get you down on paper. You were... elusive. But then, this week, I started trying again. It felt like a challenge and I couldn't let it go. I wanted you perfect but, I could never, it wasn't, I couldn't..."

He trailed off. Alex felt his heart plummet. Deep down, he had hoped that there was another meaning for the drawings. He had hoped, in vain, that maybe his feelings were not as unrequited as he had assumed. He thought... 

God, he was so  _stupid_.

"You're beautiful," John said finally. Alex felt heat rush to his cheeks and he wished he could say something but his throat constricted until no words could leave him mouth. "You're so beautiful that I can't convey it on paper. But then I got... carried away. I didn't want you finding the drawings because they seemed obsessive and creepy. Especially considering... how I feel."

"How you feel?" Alex prompted, willing his heart to calm itself. He had been disappointed once today already and yet here he was, setting himself up for more disappointment. He ignored his heartbeat, wishing, not for the first time, that he had never fallen in love with John Laurens.

John took a deep breath, eyes focusing on a spot on the wall, above Alex's head, rather than maintaining eye contact. "I like you. I like you more than I should. And I wish I could say that I'll get over it, but I honestly don't know if I can. I'm... sorry."

Alex froze. The only sounds in the room were the heavy breaths from John, who seemed drained from his speech. Alex stood up slowly, feet moving him towards John without conscious thought and without thinking it through or weighing the pros and cons, Alex was grabbing John' collar and pressing their lips together.

It wasn't harsh or rough, like he'd imagined it so often. Their lips barely brushed before John was wrapping an arm around Alex's waist and pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. It was slow, unhurried, sweet with just a dash of desperation, as though they were drowning and the other was the only thing keeping them alive. It was passion, it was _them_.

When they pulled away, John looked raw and open, every emotion laid out for Alex to see. The vulnerability made Alex's heart ache and he pressed a soft kiss against both of John's cheeks. 

"It may interest you to know," Alex murmured. "That you are the first person to render me speechless." 

John laughed, golden eyes crinkling beautifully and Alex couldn't help press a kiss to the small crow's feet wrinkles at the corner of his eyes. 

"Promise me you'll never leave?" Alex whispered, almost inaudible. He knew he sounded clingy but in the smallest corner of his mind, images of his past refused to cease their relentless irking, and all he could think about was everyone he had ever loved dying and oh, god, what if that happened to John too? 

John simply smiled.

"Never."

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr [lafayettes-baguette](http://www.lafayettes-baguette.tumblr.com)


End file.
